The Minister and the Lobbyist
by genvessel
Summary: It's time for the Minister of Magic to run for minister again. Unfortunately for Harry Potter, there are a few distractions in his way this year; namely a beautiful political lobbyist and an old enemy with a knack for holding a grudge.
1. Monday Morning, It Is!

Author Notes: It's time for the Minister of Magic to run for minister again. However, there's a bit of a complication in the form of the most brilliant political strategist that he's ever come across.

Basically... it's "American President" Harry Potter style... I don't own anything. I'm a complete and total poser. You got me.

When British Minister Harry Potter was 17, he defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort, with the help of his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom. After Graduating Hogwarts, he went into Auror training where he served for about 10 years before deciding to run for Minister of Magic. Two years into Auror training, he met a witch named Anagret Martin and fell madly in love. They were married for 9 years and had a beautiful baby girl (named Rebecca Andrea Potter) when Anna was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. Within six months, Harry was elected as Minister of Magic and lost his wife. Surrounded by his closest friends, he made it through the mourning process, and managed to be one of the best Ministers since Arthur Weasley.

As elections for Harry's second term approaches, the IOW hires Hermione Granger as their political strategist. Widely known as the most brilliant witch of her generation, Hermione attended Gladheights School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Philadelphia, PA – a magnet school for Muggle borns created during the war as a safe heaven against Voldie.

Generally assume everything that's canon... they found the sorceror's stone, Ginny opened the Chamber of Secrets, all Sirius excapades, etc... except that Hermione never existed. Neville was the third leg of the trio...

**Chapter One: The Staff Meeting that Changed Everything **

"Lightning's moving."

Harry Potter rolled his eyes as he overheard his Secret Service nickname. _Damn Americans for giving them that idea_, he thought to himself. But before he could ruminate too long on how to change his code name, he realized that his assistant, Monica Brazleton, was talking to him.

"And then at 10:45 you have the meeting with the Wizarding Bass Alliance."

"Where is that?" Harry asked as they both turned the corner from his private residence to the corridor that would take him to his office in the Ministry of Magic. As they saw him approaching, the two security goblins in charge muttered the incantations necessary to allow passage between the two buildings. No one except the Minister, his family and his staff knew exactly where he lived and it was up to the goblins to keep it that way. Luckily, goblins tended to take their jobs pretty seriously.

"In the Lake Room, sir."

"We have a Lake Room?" _Learn something new every day_, Harry mused.

"Yes, sir. I do believe that Mr. Weasley commissioned it years ago. But I can check on that, sir," Monica trailed off as she scribbled something on her ever-present parchment pad.

Harry chuckled, "No, Monica, I believe you. Creating a room with a lake that serves no real purpose and yet takes up enormous amounts of space sounds exactly like something Ron would do."

"Yes, sir." If Harry didn't know better, he would have thought that Monica chuckled a little at that. _Impossible_, he scolded himself. _That woman doesn't know the meaning of the word 'chuckle'. It's probably why Neville hired her. _

"Monica, why am I meeting with the Wizarding Bass Alliance?"

Quickly checking her notes, Monica replied, "They're presenting you with the record setting bass, sir. It's around 90 pounds and it was caught in Lake Cumberland in America."

"Monica, remind me to schedule more events where someone gives me a really big fish." Harry deadpanned.

"Yes, sir."

"That was a joke, Mon."

"Oh," was the confused reply. "Also, sir, Mr. Finch-Fletchley would like you to call him at your earliest convenience."

"Do you know what about?" Harry asked her as they officially entered the Ministry of Magic and made their way to his office.

"I do not know, sir, but he sounded rather upset."

"Well," Harry sighed, accepting a cup of coffee from a dutiful house elf, "it wouldn't be Monday morning if Justin wasn't upset with me for something I did Sunday night."

As if on cue, Justin appeared at the next hallway exclaiming, "You skipped an entire paragraph!"

Harry chuckled, "And Monday morning it is!"

"I wrote a kick-ass speech, sir, and you ruined it!"

Cocking an eyebrow and opening the door to his office, he replied, "As, you know, the most powerful wizard in the world, I figured I could take some liberties."

"Not with my writing!"

"Justin," came the warning voice from the corner.

"Neville!" Harry exclaimed to his Chief of Staff. "How good of you to join us for my morning scolding."

"Neville, he was a Hogwarts! He declares that he is looking at a generation greater than any we've seen and then stops. Stopping was no where in my transcript! There were two more paragraphs!" Justin was just about ready to pop a blood vessel.

"Justin, I am perfectly aware of where he was," Neville said calmly. "But I'd like you to kindly remember that we're not in the Gryffindor common room and you're not addressing the Head Boy because he snogged your girl! You're standing in the Minster's office and you are addressing the Minister of Magic!"

"Really, Justin, you should know better than to mess with Neville on a Monday morning," Ronald Weasley said calmly from the couch.

"Sometimes it's a damn shame that Neville handles the staff," Harry commented. "Because I was fully ready to watch Justin have his aneurysm he was excited about having."

In the midst of the laughter, Justin muttered an apology to Harry, who winked and told him not worry.

"Okay, we all here?" Neville was all business once again.

"Except for Cho and Tonks," Justin remarked.

Harry made eye contact with Monica, who nodded and left the room. "Well, Cho should be Apparating in shortly and as I just sent Mon to fetch Tonks –"

His sentence was interrupted by a loud crash in the lobby.

With a wry grin, Ron commented, "Tonks is here."

The ball of energy known as Nymphadora Tonks Lupin busted into the room not a second later. "I'm so sorry, sir, I know I was late, I promise it will never happen again."

"That's what you say every day," Neville muttered. Harry chuckled at his no-nonsense Chief of Staff but verbally addressed Tonks.

"It's okay, my friend." He checked his watch and softly counted, "Three, two, one."

As soon as he uttered the word "one", Cho Chang Apparated into the corner of the office and deftly made her way to an open seat next to Ron.

"And there's my favorite Press Secretary!" Harry exclaimed. "How was vacation?"

"Excellent, sir. Grand Cayman gets more beautiful every year," the Asian beauty was all business as she quickly summoned some parchment and a quill from Harry's desk. "I heard that we have another great generation on our hands."

Before Justin could react, Ron replied, "Neville, any specific reason for this meeting? Other than it being the daily Senior Staff gathering, I mean."

Neville nodded and Harry settled back into his chair. _This is one of the true beauties of being Minister. Neville runs all my meetings for me!_

"It's exactly 145 days until the Wizengamot decides on whether or not the Minister is eligible for re-election. We have a lot to do before we're ready to present our case." Neville started handing out rolls of parchment. "Ron, as the Head of the Department of Wizarding Games, I expect you to highlight the level of peace and security that the Minister's term has brought. Make sure you talk about the Quidditch Cup and..."

"And the fact that for the past five years, the wizarding world has seen an unprecedented economic boom due to the Minister's push for the recreation of young witches and wizards," Ron continued. "Neville, I don't just use your memos for owl cage lining, you know. Every once and a while I read them."

"Then feel free to follow them at your earliest convenience, Ronald."

"You know, sir," Ron addressed Harry, "I think you should commission someone to investigate how Neville became such a large pain in the arse since our graduation."

Cho rolled her eyes._ And it's time for the daily fistfight... _"Children, break it up."

With a withering glance cast at Ron, Neville continued, "Justin, as communications director, I expect you and Cho to work closely with the Minister to craft the message we want to send. Politically, economically, socially..."

"Ecumenically, spiritually, grammatically," Harry cut him off with a smirk. When he was met with confused stares, he continued. "Did none of you pay attention during our last Muggle Movie night? Seriously, people – I do things like this for a reason. _Pirates of the Carribbean_ is an excellent movie! That Johnny Depp fellow is a bloody riot!"

"And it doesn't hurt that the girl in it looks exactly like Anna, now, does it?" Ron snapped back.

A deadly hush fell over the room. Ron grimaced when he realized what he had said. No one mentioned Harry's late wife in his office. Not even Harry or Drea...

Harry swallowed and closed his eyes. She's been dead for five years, Harry. It's time to be able to say her name and not look for the nearest bottle of firewhiskey. After a long moment, he smiled and made eye contact with Ron. "Nah, Anna was much prettier."

Ron smiled back, "Yeah, but calling my best mate's wife 'hot' never really sat well with me."

"That's fair, mate – at least you're not telling me she looks like Drea."

"Speaking of Drea, sir" Justin interjected, "do you think it's appropriate to have her speak before the Wizengamot?"

"You know, Justin, I've thought about that," Harry replied honestly. "She's brought it up on several occasions, actually."

"Sir, with all due respect," Neville pipped up, "I don't believe that your fifteen-year-old daughter is the best representative before the Wizengamot."

"Why is that?"

"Well, sir, I believe that they would see it as sign of emotional manipulation. Drea is an amazing witch, we all believe that. But she is the most popular teenager in the wizarding world, sir. I fear that the more stubborn warlocks on the council would see us as trying to win votes by sending in the child born to you by your dead wife," Neville almost whispered the last phrase, fearing Harry's temper.

But the infamous temper never came to surface. He cast a long glance to Ron and replied, "I can see your point, Neville, and I respect it. But anyone who encounters Rebecca Andrea Potter is well aware that she wouldn't have the first bloody clue how to manipulate anyone. That's not how Anna and I raised her."

_This is taking such a turn for the surreal,_ Tonks thought to herself. _Wait until Remus hears that he's talking about Anna._

Neville cleared his throat, "Well, sir, if I have your permission, there are a few things to cover still and we're running out of time."

Harry nodded his permission and settled back in his seat. He barely listened to the rest of the meeting as his mind wandered to his wife and daughter. Next thing he knew, the meeting was over and Tonks was calling his name.

"Mr. Minister, sir," she whispered.

"Yes, Tonks?"

"I have a message from Remus for you."

Harry's face brightened. "Really? What can I do for him?"

"Honestly, I don't know many details," Tonks admitted. "But I know it has something to do with the Hogwarts Ball."

"Oh yes," Harry sighed. "The annual let's-embarrass-the-shit-out-of-Harry extravaganza."

Tonks giggled and rolled her eyes. "Yes, it's such a burden to be the most beloved and honored wizard of all time. Really, Harry, how can you handle the hardship?"

"I'll have you know..."

Tonks held up her hand. There were a scant few people on the planet that were comfortable silencing the Minister of Magic, but as wife of Harry's surrogate godfather, (and Director of Auror Relations) she enjoyed the privilege. "Harry, I know your story. I lived most of it with you, remember? I'm just saying that it's really not that bad being adored – not as bad as you think, anyway."

Harry rose from his chair and noticed that everyone had left his office except for Tonks. "I think what bothers me so much is..."

"Is what?" She pressed.

He paused and glanced down at the invitation on his desk. "It's nothing, Tonks." Flashing his friend one of his trademark grins, he continued, "I promise, I'm fine. Would you mind asking Remus to floo over here sometime after 5:30?"

Tonks nodded and smiled, "I'm a fan of yours, Harry Potter. You're good people, you know that?" With a wink and wiggle of her eyebrows, she Disapparated, leaving Harry chuckling to himself – alone in his office.

But not alone for long, as there was a knock at the door. It was generally understood that one never apparated directly into Harry's office, but just outside the door. You'd then state your business to Monica or Mrs. Chapel (Harry's personal secretary), who would allow you to knock or send you away.

"Come in," Harry bellowed.

He was not at all shocked to see Neville enter his office.

"Ah, Senor Longbottom! I do believe I fell asleep in your meeting. A thousand apologies," Harry grinned.

Neville silenced his fears with a wave of his hand. "But I do need to talk to you about the IOW Meeting."

Harry groaned, "Why do we have a meeting with the International Organization of Witches? Does Merlin hate me?"

Neville laughed, "I never thought I would have heard you, of all people, complain about being with a room full of witches."

Harry smiled wryly, "The IOW are not normal witches. They want blood. They want vengence. They want..."

"Well, right now they want us to pass the Marriage and Family Wellness Act."

Harry nearly spit out his coffee. "Are you serious? That thing costs 189 Billion Galleons! I don't think the Malfoys have that much money, much less my national budget!"

"Nevertheless, I'm meeting with them tomorrow morning at 9. They brought in a new strategist."

"Betty Friedan?"

"Who?"

Harry shook his head, "Neville, you need to mix with Muggles more."

"Whatever, sir. No, her name is Hermione Granger. She's a pretty heavy hitter."

"Where have I heard that name?" Harry muttered to himself.

"She's a muggle-born, sir. Went to Gladheights over in America when Fudge passed that ridiculous decree that muggle-born students couldn't attend Hogwarts. She would have graduated with us," Neville supplied.

"Is she the one that found the counter for the AIDS curse?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Absolutely, sir. She's brilliant," Neville sighed. "And now she's working for the IOW."

"We're screwed," Harry said.

"Absolutely."

"Can I do anything?" Harry asked, fully expecting the answer to be a firm 'no'. Neville rarely let him do any actual governing...

Neville looked thoughtful for a moment, "Actually, yes."

Harry thought he was going to pass out from the shock.

"If you popped your head in for a few minutes, it might help smooth the way."

"Consider it done," Harry clapped his friend on the back. "Anything else?"

"You need a date to the Hogwarts Ball," Neville stared him directly in the eye.

"I'm thinking of taking Drea, actually," Harry said. "You know, make it a cute father/daughter thing. A great way to kick off her fifth year."

"Drea's already got a date."

"WHAT?"

"Drea's got a date. A boy by the name of Simon Weasley, I believe."

Harry sighed from relief. "You were very evil there, for a minute, Longbottom."

"Whatever do you mean, sir," Neville feighned innocence.

"Making me think she had an actual date," Harry growled. "A boy by the name of Simon Weasley, indeed..."

"So your godson is an appropriate choice of escort?"

Harry laughed, "I think Ron and Luna would die if they heard you referring to Simon as an escort!"

"It would be a good laugh, yes, sir," Neville smiled.

Ah, there's my friend. He appears every once and a while... if I could only think of a way to get rid of this Chief of Staff fellow he insists on being...

"So, I need a real date, then?" Harry asked.

Neville nodded, collected his things and Disapparated.

Harry smiled to himself, "So, I've got the IOW wanting me to pass the impassible act, Drea's going to the Hogwarts Ball with Ron's son, Remus needs to see me about something and now I need to find myself a date. This is turning out to be quite the day."

Scribbling a few things down on parchment, Harry bellowed to his assistant, "Monica! What's next?"


	2. The Wrath of the Infamous Hermione Grang...

It wasn't often that Hermione Granger was nervous. There were, in fact, very few things that could cause the powerful witch to quiver, even the slightest bit. But a private meeting with the Chief of Staff of the British Minister of Magic was definitely one of them.

Of course, there was no way that she was letting Pavrati Patil, one of the most well respected and noted witches in the world, know that. Pavrati worked for the International Organization of Witches and was specifically interested in the political arena. She had been working on the Marriage and Family Wellness Act for over three years and was ruthless about getting it passed.

_And that's why they need me,_ Hermione mused. _I'm a deal closer. I make things happen. However, it's going to be very hard to do either of those things with Neville Longbottom in the same room. _

The Hogwarts Heroes, they were called. Neville, Ron and Harry. Of course, it went without saying that Harry was the brightest star in that little constellation, but Neville and Ron were valuable as well. Neville, it was said, was the brains of the operation. It was rumored that he had read _Hogwarts: A History_ twelve times. (Hermione herself had only accomplished that feat seven times.) While he was quiet, he was ruthlessly loyal and would always do everything within his academic power to see that Harry was all right. Ron was Harry's center. When life spun just a little too far out of control, Ron brought Harry back to reality. Not to mention that he was a brilliant strategist. It was Ron who figured out where Voldemort would be hiding that night.

Stories flew through the wizarding world about their friendship and even though it had been years and years since they first became famous, Neville and Ron were held in high regard.

When Harry had announced his candidacy, everyone knew that Ron and Neville would not be far behind. Over the past three years of his administration, Ron and Neville had each proven themselves as worthy beyond just being Harry's friend. Ron quickly went to work setting up Quidditch training camps for under privileged young wizards and Neville is the most well-respected diplomat since Arthur Weasley.

_At least I'm not meeting Minister Potter,_ Hermione thought to herself. _That would surely send me over the edge_.

Straightening her robes and running a finger through her mane, Hermione bravely stepped up to the security wizard and opened her mouth to state her name.

"Hello, sir, I'm – "

"Wand," the wizard said without even looking up from his copy of _The Daily Prophet_.

"Oh, okay," Hermione replied, slightly flustered. "I'm Hermione Granger and I'm here to see Mr. Longbottom."

"That's nice."

"I work for the IOW and I'm trying to get the –"

"Go through the lobby and take the second elevator on your left," the wizard intoned. "Take it down to P74 and go down to the last door on the left. Knock three times, do a little dance and then enter. Mr. Longbottom's secretary will greet you."

"A little dance?" _I'm not a very gifted dancer, what if the quality of the dance is what lets me in the door?_

"I was kidding about the dance."

"Oh, well," Hermione chided herself for believing the gentleman.

"Here's your wand," said monotone man. "It passes inspection. Have a nice day."

"Well, he doesn't sound like he wants me to have a nice day at all!" Hermione muttered to herself as she made her way to the elevator bay. It didn't seem like any time at all before she was standing in Mr. Longbottom's office lobby.

"Ms. Granger?"

Hermione turned to see a pleasant looking witch wearing business robes. "Yes?"

"Mr. Longbottom asked me to show you to the Central Meeting Room. Are you ready?"

"Why, yes," Hermione replied.

"Excellent," the secretary said, gesturing to a door on the far wall. Just as Hermione was about to open the door, it swung open to reveal a pleasant looking man with a serious expression.

"Ah, Ms. Granger, it's nice to meet you." The man offered Hermione his hand and ushered her into the room. "I'm Neville Longbottom. Did you get here all right?"

"Yes, I was fine," Hermione assured him.

"Excellent! Ms. Patil is already here. Now, let's begin."

...

Three Hours Later

"Now, it's not going to pass with that much money attached to it, and you know it." Neville calmly addressed them.

Pavrati and Hermione exchanged glances before Pavrati spoke up. "But if it doesn't pass, then millions of children will starve."

"I'm sure that's a drastic overstatement, Ms. Patil," Neville replied.

"Mr. Longbottom," Pavrati started, but stopped when Hermione placed her hand calmly on her arm.

"Mr. Longbottom, then we are at an impasse."

"It would appear so, Ms. Granger."

"But I would like you to clear a few things up for me before my colleague and I depart."

"By all means."

At this point, a figure slipped in the door behind Hermione. While the whole room sat up a little straighter, Hermione didn't even notice the addendum to the group.

"Mr. Longbottom," Pavrati said before Hermione could speak, "I want you to know that, before she speaks, Hermione has not even read the report from the Genesco convention. Her knowledge of the bill is entirely based on our conversations over the past few hours."

_Bloody hell,_ Hermione inwardly groaned.

Neville raised his eyebrows, and replied, "Well, Ms. Granger, let's hear what you have to say."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione barreled forward. "Well, Mr. Longbottom, she's right. I have not read the report from the Genesco convention. However, if I had, I would have known that over 58% of wizarding children outside of the British Isles are denied proper education. Because they do not know simple conjuring spells or healing potions and are therefore, subjected to the fate of their Muggle peers. Children in the 10/40 window are starving to death, Mr. Longbottom. They are dying at a rapid pace and your administration has done nothing to stop it! If the Minister thinks that he can just turn a deaf ear while almost two-thirds of the wizarding population cries out from their graves, then your boss is the chief executive of fantasy land!"

"Well, let's take him out back and beat the shit of him!" Harry cried from his position from behind Hermione.

_Bloody hell,_ Hermione groaned.

And she was so concerned with beating herself up that she never noticed that Harry's eyes were dancing in a way that they hadn't in about three years.

...


End file.
